


There's a Piece of You in How I Dress

by 28sunflowers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, But not really angsty, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Oblivious Harry Styles, Pining Harry Styles, Sharing Clothes, but more like idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/28sunflowers/pseuds/28sunflowers
Summary: “Harry, your shirt looks better on Louis than on you,” Niall teased him like it was usual for Louis to be wearing Harry’s clothes.It wasn’t. For as long as they have been friends, sharing clothes hasn’t been a thing between them.Or hadn’t been. Apparently, it was now.Five times Louis wore Harry’s clothes and the one time Harryfinallywore Louis’.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 34
Kudos: 186
Collections: 5 Times 1D Fic Fest





	1. Five times Louis wore Harry's clothes

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you my darling Greta for beta reading this for me. ♥
> 
> If this is your prompt, let me know what you think of the fic!

—— I ——

Harry fidgets with his beer for the millionth time in the past hour, reading the tag that’s coming off with the condensation on the glass, to avoid looking at Louis. 

He knows he is acting weird and he knows all the boys noticed because, whenever he looks up, he gets some confused glances thrown his way. Niall even asked him, not subtly at all, if he wanted to tag along to grab the next round of drinks, clearly wanting to get Harry alone to question what’s the matter with him. Harry refused with the excuse of needing the bathroom, not knowing how to explain his feelings to Niall or, even if he did know how to express them, afraid of the pity he would be bound to receive. 

Harry knows he is a lovesick idiot for Louis. From the moment he met the other boy at a welcome lecture at university, almost two years ago now, he was immediately taken by Louis’ energy and attitude. Harry started following Louis around, wanting to bask in his light, as a sunflower attracted to the sunshine, moving in circles around himself to keep up and chase the warmth to absorb as much of it as he could. 

In the beginning, Harry’s crush felt good. He was hopeful that maybe Louis felt the same, but neither of them dared to make the first move. And, as time passed and their duo became a trio, a quadruple and, now, a quintuple, Harry realized that he became Louis’ friend. Which is amazing, because Louis is possibly the best person Harry has ever met and he doesn’t want to take their friendship for granted, but it makes his infatuation harder to deal with. Harry resigned himself to live the rest of his life feeling unrequited love for Louis, and the emotion has only grown stronger with time. 

And that’s dangerous. Harry needs to take a hold of himself because, lately, the other three boys have been teasing them as if they are a couple, so clearly, Harry has become too obvious about his feelings towards Louis. The last thing Harry wants is to put Louis in an uncomfortable situation he does not fault in. 

But at times like this, it’s hard to control himself. 

Louis spent the day in Harry’s dorm to study together, even if they are taking different courses – Louis said something about the peer pressure of having someone watching him, but not his loud flatmate who only managed to be a distraction.

When they were both done with their respective papers and Niall texted their group chat inviting everyone to a little hole in the wall bar near campus, Harry and Louis eagerly jumped at the opportunity to relax and have a fun night. When Harry went to the bathroom to change from pyjama pants to jeans, Louis must’ve taken one of his shirts before bundling up to face the cold weather outside. Louis didn’t say anything, though, and Harry’s brain shortcut when they arrived at the bar and Louis took his jacket off. 

Louis adjusted the shirt on his shoulders as he sat down, earning a playful whistle from Niall and Liam. 

“Harry, your shirt looks better on Louis than on you,” Niall teased him like it was usual for Louis to be wearing Harry’s clothes. It wasn’t. For as long as they have been friends, sharing clothes hasn’t been a thing between them. Or hadn’t been. Apparently, it was now. 

Everyone laughed and Louis defended Harry’s honour playfully, saying they both looked equally as good in that shirt. Harry forced a few chuckles along to everyone, trying to control his sped-up heart. 

But even now, almost an hour later, seeing Louis in his clothes is doing things to Harry. His mind is screaming ‘mine, mine, mine’ in a loop, weirdly possessive and pleased at the fact everyone easily identified that Louis is wearing his shirt. It feels like a giant neon sign pointing to the fact they are close enough to share articles of clothing. 

Suddenly, Louis leans closer to him and whispers, “Are you alright? We can go if you want.” 

We. 

Like it’s a fact that, if Harry goes, Louis will follow. It makes Harry’s throat dry. Half of his mind screams at him that Louis sees them as an item, too, even if no one made the first move yet, while the other half tells him to stop reading too much into things because Louis is his best friend. 

Harry bites his lips, unsure of how to proceed. Louis’ expression turns more worried when Harry doesn’t immediately reply. 

“Haz?” Louis asks quietly, a hand reaching out to Harry’s arm while he presses his body even closer. 

Harry is hyper-aware of their closeness, the way Louis is leaning into his personal space without hesitancy, utterly comfortable touching Harry. 

He swallows. 

“I think I’m more tired than I thought,” he explains, hoping it covers his odd behaviour enough that no one asks more questions about it. “But I can call an Uber, you don’t have to come with me.” 

“Nonsense.” Louis straightens up and turns to the rest of their friend group, “Harry and I will get going, lads. We overdid it on studying today.” 

The other three protest, throwing insults at them for being party poopers and old men. Louis just laughs and shrugs them off, unbothered, and Harry watches on.

He realizes this has happened before, multiple times. Louis and he, arriving and leaving together, have their own agenda, whereas Niall, Liam, and Zayn each have their individual ones. It became ordinary, and Harry didn’t even realize it. At no point does someone ask why Louis would leave with Harry when he is more than capable of getting home by himself. They just accept it and, eventually, when the mocking stops, say their goodbyes. 

Harry follows Louis out, relieved that he finally put his jacket back on, hiding Harry’s shirt from view. It makes Harry relax some, tension leaving his body now that he doesn’t have an immediate visual reminder of Louis wearing his clothes. He can breathe with ease now. 

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” Louis knocks their shoulders together and points his head towards the avenue that takes them towards the dorms. “I’ll walk you to your room.” 

Harry can’t help it but smile genuinely this time, “Thanks, Lou.”

—— II ——

“Harry, I’m cold!” Louis whines next to him.

He has tried that already with Niall, Liam, and Zayn, getting multiple types of retorts back and not one extra piece of clothing. Harry remained quiet as everyone reminded Louis that it was his own damn fault for not dressing warm enough. The cold is bitter today, the wind biting the skin and making it burn with the frost. Harry himself is wearing more layers than usual, along with his thickest beanie and scarf. 

He sighs regretfully, knowing his mouth will chipper if he doesn’t hide it from the cold with his scarf. But he is powerless against Louis and he knows it. There is no point pretending he wasn’t ready to take his scarf off and hand it to Louis the second he started complaining about the cold. He only held back until now because Louis hadn’t asked him directly, so he didn’t want to make a fool of himself by offering unprompted. 

He unrolls it from around his neck slowly, offering it to Louis wordlessly. 

The bright smile he gets in return is worth it.

“Thank you, H! This is why you are my favourite!” Louis says loudly, clearly a dig towards their friends, but he winks at Harry to show his appreciation through the joking. 

Harry laughs and shakes his head, zipping his jacket up higher to cover his chin. 

It is satisfying to give his scarf to Louis, to take care of him and ensure he is warm enough. The protectiveness hits Harry hard at the scene of Louis hiding his nose inside the scarf, and he kind of wants to pull Louis close — hug him to share body warmth. 

He doesn’t allow himself to do it, though, because that feels like blurring the lines between platonic and romantic too much and he doesn’t want that. Or Louis doesn’t want that and Harry doesn’t ever want to do anything to upset Louis if he can help it.

They walk for a few more minutes, so Harry warms up enough that he doesn’t miss the scarf anymore. Once inside the music store, it is warm enough to unzip the top part of his jacket and to take off his gloves. 

He goes straight to the vinyl rows, while Zayn takes off towards the CDs. The reason for their trip was that they both wanted to come to check out the new arrivals, and the other three boys tagged along. 

Harry startles when a hand touches the album he is holding. He didn’t expect anyone to be following him, as Niall usually ends up distracted by the instruments at the back, and Louis and Liam hop between two sections too quickly to stick along with Harry at some point. 

Louis snorts, “What was that? Didn’t you see me?” 

Harry chuckles in embarrassment for being so distracted he didn’t realize Louis was right next to him, “You usually walk around while I’m looking for new albums.” 

Louis shrugs, looking caught doing something he shouldn’t. Odd. 

“I wanted to see what is so interesting to catch your attention for hours,” Louis says exaggeratedly, making Harry roll his eyes in return. 

He never made them stay for hours. An hour maybe, or a bit more. Never longer than that. 

“I just browse normally. But I think I’ll take this one. You know the blue album I’m always playing?” Harry waits for Louis' nod before continuing. “This is by the same artist. Joni Mitchell. She released it the year before ‘Blue’.” 

“It’s blue and it’s called ‘Blue’?” Louis pulls a distasteful face. 

Harry laughs, “What’s wrong with that?” 

“A bit unoriginal, don’t you think?” 

God, Louis can talk so much shit. Harry wishes he could kiss him. 

Harry diverts his eyes from Louis’ face at the thought. He shouldn’t be thinking about that stuff. He clears his throat, keeping the smile on his face so Louis doesn’t realize his change in demeanour. 

“Of course not,” he plays along with the discussion. “What colour did you want the cover to be? ‘Blue’ being blue makes sense.” 

“It’s predictable. Should’ve been green.” 

“Green?” Where does Louis get his ideas from? 

“Shut up, I like green,” Louis shoves Harry, but it has no force behind it. “Show me more.” 

Harry smiles. It feels good to share this with Louis. It is something Louis never took interest in before, and Harry never felt the urge to pressure him into it. This new interest is nice. Standing here, next to each other, while Louis wears Harry’s scarf and Harry shows him his favourite albums on vinyl, it almost seems like they are a couple.

Harry shoves down the anxiety that threatens to build up at that, deciding to enjoy the situation while he can. He is sure it will be harmless, just this once. 

Harry looks back at the J row and finds ‘Double Fantasy’, by John Lehnon and Yoko One. He takes it. That should yield some entertaining topics for Louis.

—— III ——

Harry takes his phone off airplane mode as soon as he steps out of class. It was one of those incredibly boring ones where he would rather spend the whole time scrolling through Instagram instead of paying attention to the lecture. But as it is, he needs to keep his grades up, so he shut off the temptation to force himself to listen to the monotonous voice of his professor for almost two hours. 

A multitude of notifications come in at the same time, all from the group chat with Louis, Niall, Liam, and Zayn. That doesn’t usually happen, so he quickly opens them to see what the commotion was about.

Loubear 

_which one is better?_

There are two photos underneath the first message. They show Louis in front of the mirror on his closet’s door. He is wearing a different outfit in each. Louis looks good in both outfits, which comes as no surprise to Harry, but they seem relatively normal. 

He closes them to go back to the conversation. 

Liam Econ

_what’s the occasion?_

Loubear

_internship interview at that talent recruitment agency I was talking about last week_

Liam Econ

_first one?_

Zayn Art

_pants and jacket from the first one, change the shirt to a button-down but not too formal_

Niall Irish

_agreed_

Loubear

_what button-down??????? I’m not going shopping for this malik_

Zayn Art

_🙄_

_that wine-coloured shirt Harry bought with white dots all over_

Niall Irish

_yes! I second that_

Liam Econ

_third it_

Loubear

_okay yeah that’s good_

_thanks lads_

_😎_

Harry stares at the screen dumbfounded. 

Louis doesn’t even live with Harry, why did they all assume he could just grab a shirt of his? And even worse, without even asking Harry himself if he could borrow the shirt. When did this thing of Louis wearing his clothes like he also owned them became a habit? 

Harry can feel a headache forming behind his eyes, so he just locks his phone and puts it in his pocket again.

This whole thing with Louis is… confusing. Everyone treats them like a pair even when they are not. LouisandHarry. And, to be fair, it does feel like they are a pair most of the time. Harry especially feels it when he texts Louis to make sure he wants to stay in before ordering pizza on a Friday night or when he does Louis’ laundry with his completely unasked. It’s domestic, it feels like crossing the line from friendly. But Harry likes it. He likes crossing the line, blurring it, pushing it. 

He wishes he could just throw the line out. But every time he actually considered doing it, Louis pulled away. 

That one time they fell asleep together while watching a movie and Harry woke up with a soft and sleepy Louis cuddled up to him, Harry had felt the intense need to kiss him. When Louis woke up, they stared at each other for a few long seconds and Harry swore he saw his look mirrored in Louis’ eyes for a second. But it was quickly gone, Louis pushing himself up and off Harry, claiming he needed the bathroom.

Or when Louis was in one of his moods, insistently poking Harry to try and get his attention when Harry was trying to study, and Harry had had enough. He pushed Louis down, pinning his hands to his side before his brain could catch up to the compromising position it put them on. Louis had stared up at him, wide eyes filled with lust, Harry was sure of it, but it was replaced fast by playfulness when Louis kneed Harry and it started a whole fight between them. 

So, Harry could take the hint that nothing should be happening between them. But fuck if it didn’t mess up with him the whole couple treatment they got from everyone, and how casually Louis accepted it, without the blink of an eye. 

Suddenly Harry is overcome with annoyance. Annoyance at Louis for playing along with their more-than-friends routine while knowing he doesn’t want to actually date Harry. Annoyance at everyone for treating it like it’s normal. Annoyance at himself for being so far gone for Louis that he will continuously take whatever he can, even at the price of getting hurt time after time, because anything is better than nothing with Louis. 

Harry is irritated when he forcefully goes to unlock the door to his flat and finds it already opened. His bedroom door is opened, lights turned on and the sound of someone walking inside loud in the space. Harry knows it’s Louis taking his shirt.

He moves to stand by the door, waiting for Louis to turn around to face him. From the back, he looks good in his shirt. It is a bit wide on the shoulders, but not enough to make it a bad fit. It looks roomy enough to be comfortable, but the lines still follow Louis’ natural body features. 

Harry sighs resignedly. Zayn was right to suggest this shirt.

Louis finally turns around, smiling at Harry from across the room. 

“What do you think?” He asks, opening his arms to show off his clothes, eyebrows raised expectantly. 

Harry doesn’t want to give in so easily. “Of what?”

Louis looks put off by the question. Good. 

“My outfit…?” 

“Looks good, perfect for the interview.” 

“Yeah?” Louis’ face is overcome by a shy smile, “Thanks. And thank you for letting me borrow the shirt.” 

The twinkle in Louis’ eyes almost makes Harry want to stop pushing. Almost. Harry rolls his eyes, “I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t let you borrow the shirt, you took it,” Harry spells it out for him. 

“Oh.” 

An awkward silence stretches over them, Louis fidgets with the hem of the shirt, eyes averted from Harry. Louis bites his lips like when he does when distressed, and Harry feels guilty for picking this fight. 

Louis looks at him again, “I can take it off. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t” Harry rushes to deny the offer. God, he is being such an asshole. “It’s okay.” 

Louis nods slowly with uncertainty, “Okay.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something else – to, maybe, reassure Louis that it really is fine. He would’ve let Louis borrow his whole wardrobe if he wanted to. But the words don’t come out of his mouth. 

“Uh,” Louis takes the blazer from Harry’s bed and steps closer towards the door, “I have to get going to make it in time.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Harry steps back, opening space for Louis to get out of his bedroom. “Good luck over there.” 

Louis hesitates by the front door. “Thanks… We’re okay, right?” 

Harry sighs in regret. He shouldn’t have made things weird. “Yeah, Lou, we’re fine.” 

“Okay…” He can see Louis doesn’t believe him. Harry doesn’t even believe himself. But Louis lets it go, opening the door to step out of the apartment, “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Bye, text me when you get the internship,” Harry says to Louis’ retreating form.

The door closes behind him and then Harry is left alone in his flat.

Harry wants to cry. He feels strangely emotional over the whole interaction, like something big happened between him and Louis, but he doesn’t exactly understand what. He feels so stupid. 

He drops down on his bed with a groan. 

Whoever said falling in love is easy?

—— IV ——

Harry is halfway done with this assignment – the most boring one in the entire world. It is so much more laborious than he originally thought, so he is mentally tired and kind of annoyed at the professor for giving them a paper that requires this much work with such short notice. 

He clicks on the home button on his phone to check the time and encounters a text from Louis waiting for him. 

Loubear

_I’m coming over at 8 okay?_

Harry looks at the time. 19:24. 

He groans. There is no way he will be able to hang out with Louis tonight. 

Curly

_Raincheck?_

_I’m stuck at the library doing a last-minute project 😠 my professor is the worst_

_Sorry for cancelling last minute…_

Harry locks his phone again and puts it upside down on the table. If he concentrates, he should be able to get the first draft completed by the time they start telling people to pack up at 21:45. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but he is almost done when a body drops on the chair across from him and he jumps in surprise. He looks up and is faced with a smiling Louis. 

“Lou?” He asks rhetorically, taking in the image in front of him.

Louis is all bundled up, looking warm and soft… in Harry’s jean jacket with a fur collar. Harry doesn’t even have the strength to be bothered by the fact he doesn’t know how Louis got ahold of his jacket. He looks wonderful in it, and Harry kind of wants to snuggle into him and take a nap. Maybe, keep Louis in his clothes forever so he can always look this good. 

“I brought you some food. I know your fridge is empty and you wouldn’t stop to buy anything to eat on your way home.” Louis drops a brown bag, that Harry didn’t notice before, on the table between them.

Harry opens the paper bag and finds a sandwich from the canteen near the library and a little pot of fruit salad inside it. His heart grows ten sizes inside his chest, overcome by affection towards Louis. 

Harry wants to kiss Louis so bad. 

Louis is this wonderful man, who got worried about him enough to go out and bring him food completely unprompted, all while wearing Harry’s fucking jacket like he _wants_ people to think they’re together. Harry can’t be blamed for being so weak for him, for falling so gradually that, one day, he woke up and realized he was already head over heels for him. 

He swallows, hoping the physical motion will make all the feelings threatening to spill out of his mouth retreat down his throat too. 

“Thank you.” 

Louis grins back at him, making Harry’s head spin. 

“You’re very welcome. Now go on, finish up, you have half an hour before this place closes,” Louis motions towards Harry’s laptop as he adjusts himself in his chair.

Harry realizes Louis means he will stay to wait for him to submit his assignment. He stares incredulously until Louis throws him an odd look and he shakes himself off his stupor. 

A smile threatens to grow on his face as he turns back to his paper, but he bites it down. 

Harry can concentrate for another thirty minutes. 

—— V ——

Harry is home for his birthday. 

Gemma said she could take a few days off from work to go home that week and his mum wouldn’t forgive him if he passed an opportunity to go home at the same time as Gemma, outside from a constitutional holiday. So, Harry talked to some classmates to send him the class material in his absence and took the train to Holmes Chapel.

He has a good one. Anne makes his favourite foods, Gemma gets him a Mythology book he can’t wait to start reading and they play multiple board games through the day. And, just as he is finishing dinner, he gets a text from Louis.

Loubear

_Are you free rn? Facetime?_

Harry smiles down at his phone. He excuses himself quickly and goes up to his room, getting on the bed and clicking on Louis’ profile to initiate the call. 

It doesn’t take long before Louis’ face is appearing on his screen. “Hey, love, you look cosy.” 

“Yeah, you too.” And he did. Louis looked warm under a thick sweater, eyes crinkling the way Harry loves, as he grins on the screen.

“Are you already in bed? Did I get you at a bad time?” 

“No, no,” Harry reassures him quickly, not wanting to risk Louis ending their call. “I’m just hiding in my room before my mum forces me downstairs for a movie.” 

“Oh, I will be quick, then,” Louis straightens up in his own bed. “Just wanted to wish you happy birthday, H.”

“Thank you,” Harry smiles bashfully.

Louis didn’t say anything extraordinary at all, yet Harry is feeling warmth spreading through him because of the simple sentence – just because he knows Louis is taking the time to say it face to face, or virtual face to virtual face, instead of texting. “Can’t wait to go back to properly celebrate with you guys,” he adds.

“Yeah! And to get your present,” Louis shows him a box proudly. The wrapping is all skewed and the bow doesn’t match the paper’s colour. Harry is beyond endeared. 

He doesn’t know what to do with the surge of fondness he feels for Louis, so he tries joking. “Did Ernest and Doris wrap it?”

“Oi! Don’t be ungrateful,” Louis mock-scowls, taking the present out of the frame. “I’ll give it to them if you don’t want it.”

Harry laughs at their silliness. “No! I want it! Sorry, sorry. It’s beautiful wrapping.” 

“It is and you better acknowledge it, Harold.” 

“Thank you,” Harry hopes Louis can hear that he truly is, even through his playful tone. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Of course I did. I –,”

“Is that Louis?” Gemma interrupts their conversation by walking straight into Harry’s room and plopping down on the bed. She pushes Harry to the side so she can fit on the single bed alongside him and see his phone. 

Louis just laughs as she gets comfortable next to Harry. “Hey, Gemma! How are you doing?”

“Louis! Is that the sweater I got Harry for his last birthday?” 

What is Gemma talking about? Harry turns back to his phone and finds a sheepish looking Louis. He looks at the sweater he is wearing a bit closer and, sure enough, it is the speckle sweater Gemma gave him last year, because Harry has a thing for glittery and shiny things. 

“Yeah, it is…” Louis admits quietly. 

Gemma hums, staring at the screen with narrowed eyes.

Harry clears his throat, “So, Louis, what were –,” 

“I’m gonna go,” Louis interrupts him hastily. “Let you enjoy your family. I’ll see you on Monday?” 

Harry is caught off guard by Louis’ change in behaviour, helpless to do anything else besides nod. “Yeah, Monday.” 

“Great. Bye, H. Bye, Gemma.” Louis waves on the screen. 

Gemma is fast to wave back, “Bye, Louis! It was nice to see you!” 

“Happy birthday, again, H!” Louis says and then the call disconnects, too fast for Harry to process and reply. 

When he turns to face Gemma, she is watching him with raised eyebrows, “When were you going to tell me?” 

Harry drops his phone on the bed with a sigh. “Tell you what?” 

“Don’t play dumb, Harry. That you and Louis are dating.” 

Harry splutters on air. What the fuck? Where did Gemma get that from? 

“We… Aren’t?” 

“Why the fuck not?” 

Harry rolls his eyes at the stupid question, “Because Louis doesn’t like me like that.”

“Are you five?” She mocks him. 

Harry huffs in annoyance. He has the worst, nosiest sister in the entire world. “Shut up. He doesn’t.” 

“Oh my God, Harry,” she motions her arms in exasperation. “You can be so dense when you want to be. Anyone with functioning brain cells, which you clearly don’t have, can tell Louis wants to date you.” 

Harry doesn’t reply. He just stares at her as he tries to intake what she said. He knows, logically, Gemma wouldn’t joke about that. But it’s still… hard to wrap his head around the idea that his feelings for Louis may be reciprocated. 

Or, maybe, he already knew it, but admitting it to himself meant having to do something about it. And that was way too scary. 

“What if he doesn’t, though?” 

“He would be an idiot if he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, H, and Louis seems pretty smart to me,” Gemma tells him matter-of-factly. But then she softens, “Besides, wouldn’t you rather know? Instead of living wondering what could’ve been?” 

Harry doesn’t know that. He has been fine living in denial, accepting his friendship with Louis as the most he will ever get. He has been telling himself that he rather keep Louis as his friend than try for something else and lose him altogether. But, maybe, Gemma is right. He will probably look back in time and regret not telling Louis the truth, not taking the risk. Because if it works, then Harry will be getting a chance with _the one_ for him.

“Fuck,” Harry exhales heavily. “Okay. I will talk to him when I go back.” 

“There you go, baby bro! Please, remember to thank me after you two get together.” 

Harry has to shove her off him at that. “You’re so full of yourself.” 

Gemma shoves him right back. “You would be hopeless without me!” 

“Yeah,” Harry whispers, hiding a smile against her shoulder. He knows he would. 

He can only hope that she is right. 


	2. One time Harry wears Louis' clothes

—— VI ——

Harry wakes up early, knowing as soon as he becomes conscious that it’s because Louis and he forgot to close the blinds. Louis’ window gets the early morning sun and Harry doesn’t know how to sleep with too much light on, his body screaming about being daytime and making him restless. 

He sighs resignedly, knowing it’s best to just get up instead of staying in bed awake and risk waking Louis up as well. In the course of the four months they’ve been together, Harry discovered that Louis can get very grumpy if he is woken up early without absolutely having to – and not even the offer of morning sex works as an incentive most of the time. So, Harry accepts his fate and pushes himself off the bed slowly. He tiptoes around the room, grabbing his pair of jeans and a white shirt from the floor and dressing as quietly as he can, before slipping out of Louis’ bedroom. 

He finds Stan in the kitchen, eating cereal and already dressed for the day. Harry smiles, and makes his way to the oven to put the kettle on for himself, “Morning, mate.” 

“Nice shirt,” Stan smirks at him.

Harry looks down and realizes he grabbed the wrong white shirt in his haste – he is wearing the soft one with the vintage Umbro logo at the front that Louis wore yesterday. 

Harry tries to contain the grin that is threatening to spread on his face. It is satisfying to be wearing Louis’ shirt and to have someone identify it as Louis’ so easily. Maybe, Louis had a point when stealing Harry’s clothes all those months ago. He feels comforted wearing it, because people can see _he_ is Louis’ too. 

Stan groans from the counter, “You two are so disgusting for each other.” 

Harry chuckles, not wanting to confirm, but being incapable of denying. He and Louis are gone for one another. And Harry wouldn’t have it any other way. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!  
> Please leave kudos or comments if you have some time ♥
> 
> [Tumblr post](https://vintageumbroshirt.tumblr.com/post/643115202993405952/theres-a-piece-of-you-in-how-i-dress-by)


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